


map that leads to you.

by crypticlights



Category: TharnType the Series (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Basically Porn, M/M, adding more characters soon, bartender!gulf, blowjob, handjob, traveler!mew, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24145759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crypticlights/pseuds/crypticlights
Summary: holding multiple maps but they all lead me to you.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	map that leads to you.

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!
> 
> this is my first attempt at making a mewgulf chaptered fic that will contain 3 parts. if i made any errors pls inform me thru dms on twitter so that i can fix it. thank u and enjoy!

He likes this feeling. Of feeling the clouds beneath him and hearing the roaring engines as it lifts him higher and higher until there’s only clouds and the blue sky staring back at him at the tiny window while he listens to soft music thrumming across from his headphones into his ears. If given the chance, he wouldn’t want to go back down, if only he were as selfish as he wants to be, he’d ask the pilot to just continue on without going back down on the earth where grass and chaos constantly ensue because being up here in the skies, between solitude and oblivion, he feels more stable and afoot. 

Going back down means to wake up and why would he yearn for something so solid and hurting when this dreamlike paradise is offered to him for taking? He knows the answer but doesn’t dare acknowledge it but when he hears the familiar announcement saying that the plane’s about to land, he sighs heavily and tucks his headphones back inside his backpack, beanie fixed by big hands to adjust it perfectly atop his head. When the announcer once again rings all-throughout the plane saying to buckle up and prepare for landing, he tugs softly at the seatbelt and braces for impact. He closes his eyes and waits until he feels the land beneath his feet even without fully reaching it yet in actual. With the thought of coming back, he opens his eyes once again and recognizes the flickering lights of a city that never sleeps. He wonders if he’ll get any sleep tonight either.

He breathes in deep and finally the rest of the passengers proceed to taking their bags from the top of their seats and makes a clean line as instructed. 

Once reaching the outside, he tries to smile the best he could. Bangkok, how long has it been, 2 years?

He plays with his wristwatch, fumbling to reset the time matching Thailand’s before pulling at his bags and entering the ever-busy airport.

Looking around, he convinces himself that something has changed when clearly there hasn’t been any. The same tired eyes, the same loud crowd, the same dimmed lights, and the same atmosphere that envelopes him when he stands at the center of the ground floor. He takes it all in, despite of the weird stares he’s getting or how bad the ache in his legs are from standing and sitting for a long time inside a cramped space.

 _One month_ , he says, _one whole month_. A quick reassurance to himself as he hails a cab. He gets in with careful footsteps, asking the driver if he can put the luggage and bags at the back and requests to be driven at the hotel he booked in. Staring out the window whenever he comes back is a tireless habit he’s picked up over the years of travelling. They said there’s no place like home but he never felt like he was at home even when he’s considerably at his homeland, the place where he was born. 

The excess light pollution blares at him while the constant ringing of traffic and beeps echo through him but he never looks away and just stares longingly. How many countries has he gone to? He forgets to count after the 5th time. Hopping from Asian countries, to making a playground out of Europe, landing on America, and so much more that sometimes thinking of it makes him feel the long years of pending exhaustion in his bones. 

The cab stops at the front of the hotel and he gives thanks, handing a bill large enough that the driver stutters out words of gratitude and he just bows at him before entering the building. He smiles even with the urge to just belly flop on the floor and ask someone to carry him to his room, he smiles to everyone while he gets the keycard for the room and a bellboy automatically stands beside him to reach for his bags.

Once reaching his room, he notices the huge window with the view of the city below, the thick glass blocking most of the sounds of the busy bodies and he drowns in his thoughts once more. Of money and travel and of finding his home. He sighs loudly to himself, finally letting himself rest and gets comfortable at the huge bed conveniently placed at the center of the room.

It’s been hours and he’s bored. _Very_ bored to even consider doing what he’s about to do. 

The lights glare harshly at him and the sound of the bass coming from every direction wakes him up fully from his tired and sleepy state. These lights were different from the ones outside, where it made him feel nostalgic and moody, this one, he couldn’t quite pinpoint. All he knows is he wants to get laid and this club nearby might be of help.

He glances around with his face controlled and void of any expression, lips in a thin line and eyes searching. Sex wasn’t really a topic he would like to discuss but he isn’t embarrassed with his sex life either, it’s just that he doesn’t really have many friends to have this conversation with. He has always been alone during his travels, even if he meets people along the way, they never really made a great impression that would make them bearable as company in his daily endeavors. And who would want to accompany someone without a permanent place, right? 

But going back to sex, he never really had a specific gender in mind. He goes with the person who attracts him first. He doesn’t have a solid type either, just someone he’ll be comfortable with and someone that’ll get his full attention at first glance.

No one’s grabbed his attention yet but he knows he’s garnered a few people’s attention already. With his confident strides, his chin up high and his body clad with a casual plain black shirt and ripped jeans, he walks up to the counter and orders a drink.

A few moments of looking through the crowd and he shakes his head again in disappointment, the feeling of wanting to get laid subsiding when no one in this whole god damn building is piquing his interest. He looks down at his 3rd glass, frowning when it’s almost finished and the ice’s size decreasing tenfold when he swirls the glass around in his veiny hand.

“Having some trouble there?” A soft voice calls out and he isn’t sure if the question was directed at him but he turns around, curious as to who’s voice was it coming from.

He blinks at a bartender behind the counter wiping a shot glass with careful fingers, smiling at him with curious eyes. 

Who knew that the person that will catch his attention isn’t in the crowd but in the bar because holy shit was this boy cute. 

“Sort of,” He replies when he registers and contemplates the question in his head, looking back at the bartender with expression of amusement clear as daylight. “You?”

“I wouldn’t say _trouble_ per se, but my job is pretty boring at this time around.” The other replies, shrugging slightly and finishing up the rest of the shot glasses then putting them at the back of the small booth.

He waits for the others return and asks out of curiosity and so much more, “How so?”

“At around this hour, most of the customers are either drunk out of their wits already _or_ , as you can see, fucking each other or asking a person out of this club so they can fuck somewhere else,”

He laughs at the truth in his words, blunt, playful, and honest. “You seem tired of your job,”

The other shakes his head, _cute_ , “No… not really but more like too used to it by now?”

He hums and nods his head at the other, “So… what are you going to do now?” He pauses, realizing that the question was a bit suggestive but the other only smiles wider so he continues, “I mean, since you said you were bored and won’t be busy any time soon.”

“I don’t know,” He answers quickly, voice getting softer as time goes by but he still hears him loud and clear, eyes transfixed on the way his adam’s apple bobs when he speaks and how his voice is a tad higher than his. “How about you, what are you going to do?”

He says he won’t assume but the way the other’s eyebrows are raised when he asked the question made him think of a lot of answers that were too dirty for his liking, “Maybe I’ll just do you,”

He says in confidence and he sees the other’s eyes twitch and he doesn’t know if that was a good sign or an indication that he read this all wrong. In his slight panic, he doesn’t properly digest what the other says next. “I was waiting for you to say that, you don’t disappoint do you?”

He smirks, likes the cocky grin the other flashes at him and answers, “You gain more confidence as time goes by, do you? I like that.”

“When you’re this cute and working at a club at the peak hours of horny people trying to pick someone up, you learn a thing or two,” 

While his brain goes haywire, he decides to introduce himself to the other before everything escalates further. “Mew, you can call me Mew.”

The other blinks back at him with wide eyes, probably not expecting the other to give his name that quick into the conversation, “I’m Gulf.”

Mew reaches for his hand, a formal greeting and Gulf extends his, and the other adores how much tinier Gulf’s hands are, making his giant ones look even bigger. The other gawks at their hand size difference as well and states: “Never mind that your hands are huge but fuck, those _veins_ ,”

He laughs wholeheartedly, it’s not new for him to see someone practically salivate at the sight of his hands. He wasn’t called a sex symbol multiple times for nothing. He watches Gulf while the other seems to have lost his control while still visibly staring at the other’s veins, from the tips of his fingertips it trails to the expanse of his forearm and disappears until he’s focusing on his huge biceps. _Man_ , Gulf really knows how to boost someone’s ego. “Having fun? Take a picture, it’ll probably last longer.”

“I… I uhm…” Gulf stutters, all prior confidence vanishing and coming out with panic, incoherent blabbers. 

He almost lost all his cool when the other blushes, _he’s so cute what the fuck how is that allowed_. He mentally curses and clears his throat, looking away before he does something stupid that might freak out the other. A sudden question pops out and he immediately looks at the bartender, “Can I ask how old you are, Gulf?”

It’s the first time he lets that name roll out of his mouth. Likes the way it sounds while it comes out of his lips and it seems to yet again grab the other’s attention. “Uhm… 23. You?”

“29,” Slightly cringing at hearing how old he is. What is he doing playing around with some kids? 

“Good thing I have a thing for older people then,” Now _that’s_ a response he didn’t quite expect. More and more curious, Gulf really is a gift wrapped in pretty ribbons.

“Good thing I don’t have any preferences either, unless we’re talking about minors then it’s a pass,”

Gulf chuckles lightly, pink-dusted cheeks getting rounder as he smiles with all of his teeth. Once again, _fucking cute_. 

They stare at each other, with Gulf shifting from one foot to another, palpable tension growing between them as Mew intensely gazes back at him. He feels the palms of his hands sweat and he disregards the sudden change in temperature, adjusting the neck of his shirt with a hand, noting the younger following that small movement and he clears his throat. “At what time does your shift end?”

The younger blinks once, twice, and opens his mouth. “In 10 minutes. Can… can you… wait that long?”

The hesitation in his voice when he asks that question makes something churn at Mew’s insides and maybe his libido might still be awake after all. “10? I’ve waited longer, take your time. I’ll wait outside, yeah?”

The younger nods slightly, simple bobs of the head with other muscles not moving and his focus on everything Mew. From when he stands up from the bar stool to when he straightens his broad shoulders, Gulf watches it all with eyes unreadable and breathing labored. Maybe even sweating a bit. _Why the fuck is it so hot?_

He turns and speed walks to the front, trying to calm himself—and his dick—before he does something impeccably dumb and reaches for his pockets. _Condoms, a small pack of lube, some cash, fully charged phone, keycard_. He’s set, he’s nervous? He’s unable to know the reason why but his palms are rubbing itself on the harsh denim wrapped around his thighs and waits with his back fully pressed against the brick wall of the club.

He quickly goes for his phone as a distraction, posting pictures on instagram and updating that he’s back in Thailand until the end of the month. It doesn’t seem to help and his mind drifts back to the plump lips and round eyes that was available for staring just a few moments back. Has he mentioned how beautiful Gulf’s lips are? Just thinking about how full and red it is makes his toes curl and his chest heave, licking his lips unconsciously and his mind goes elsewhere, from the other’s tiny hands and his voice, soft, a bit higher and almost baby-like tone. He can’t even begin to imagine what he sounds like when pleasure racks into him like a garden rake, and holy shit will Mew give him a good time.

The three shots of alcohol didn’t give him much effect, considering how much of a heavy drinker he is, but he feels lighter. Head spinning with the thoughts of tanned skin and soft hands and how amazing it would be once he gets touched by it on other places other than his hand.

He kicks a pebble before he hears the slam shut of the door and Gulf is walking straight at him but looking anywhere else but him. 

His mouth practically dries at the sight of Gulf in casual clothing, out of the bartender outfit, his beautiful brown skin shining with only the flashing lights of the broken lamp post and moon staring back down on them. 

When Gulf reaches him, not missing a beat he pulls on the other by the waist—that fucking small waist, he’s _perfect_ —and holds him close, backed up once again in the wall with the younger clutching at the fabric on top of his chest and Gulf gasps, looking at him properly. 

“You’re so pretty,” Mew breathes, moves to nuzzle his nose on the juncture between the other’s shoulder and neck, breathing in. Taking in his scent and he likes how it’s not that manly at all. Even with the slight masculinity in Gulf’s features, his whole being was so wonderfully made to be taken care of. “You smell so nice too, _fuck_ , Gulf,”

They sigh against each other, of relief and arousal, of adoration and sexual needs and Mew pulls him closer, lips ghosting on his neck, his throat, his collarbone and Gulf tightens his grip on his shirt, “Mew,”

It’s the first time he hears the younger call him by his name and the soft, breathy tone made him feel things. Having so much coursing through him and the way it satisfies him when the other calls him without honorifics. Mew wants to _take care_ of him. 

His hand travels over the expanse of Gulf’s back and tugs at the hem so he can put those hands in, feeling the soft skin underneath the thin fabric and Gulf hums in quiet appreciation. Mew looks up at him, noticing that the younger really goes red all over easily, from embarrassment and _especially_ in arousal. Mew never really fancied red but it looks so good when it’s against the golden brown shade of Gulf’s skin, from his ears, to his cheeks, his lips, his neck, all the way down until the flush disappears underneath his shirt.

He’s really there for the taking, Mew wants him but not here. In an open space, in a dirty pavement where anyone can immediately see him—he’s done public sex before, he knows what it feels like—but that’s not what Gulf _deserves_ , he should be taken inside a room with four corners, made love to until he’s coming and blissed out with mouth open wide because of the pleasure given to him, entrapped between strong arms and a bed, and taken care of after. Mew can’t count how many times he’s said that he wants to take care of the younger but he really does want to.

He hasn’t felt this way about anyone before, all of his one night stands were about getting off, no aftercare and all that bullshit but the look in the younger’s eyes and the way he’s holding him tight, reciprocating Mew’s needs with his own, there’s a slight tug in his chest that forces him to not let go of the waist he’s holding closely to his body. He wants to hold him all night, and he thinks that it’s not all about sex anymore. The utter fascination clear in his eyes when he looks at Gulf’s eyes and they meet.

There’s a quick understanding between them exchanged in whispered glances and uneven breathing. Gulf’s hands travelling from his chest to gripping onto his nape and shoulders and it stays there. Waiting for Mew’s next move, staying with eyes shimmering keeping unmasked torrid need, promising with his actions what he can’t convey into verbal queues, _I’ll follow you, lead me_.

And Mew almost closes the distance between them, the hunger he feels he suppresses when he senses the other’s lips near his, lips giving the slightest touches when he speaks, “Your place or mine?”

Gulf smiles slightly, lips closed and he replies, “Are you even from around here?”

Mew looks at him for a while, contemplating how to answer this. “Why do you think I’m not?”

Gulf shrugs with one shoulder and looks at his thumb softly caressing the older’s nape. “Don’t know. You feel… foreign,”

Mew puts his needs to a minimum and smiles at the younger still pushed close against him, lips still on his for taking and he huffs, “I am from around here, I’m from Nonthaburi but I don’t stay. I booked a hotel though, you okay with that?”

The other thinks for a moment, silence hugging them in its warm embrace, cold wind nipping at their exposed arms but their limbs practically around each other was enough to keep them from shivering. “Can we do it in my apartment instead?”

There’s a slight contentment that settles in him when Gulf suggests they do it at his place, the trust he places on Mew’s shoulders on their first meeting not only gives assurance to the older but also makes Gulf all the more adoring. 

“And don’t worry, starting last month, I live alone,” Gulf adds cutely before letting go. Frowning when he’s forced to be out of the other’s clutch and misses it already but he calls a cab and pulls the other in.

He feels uneasy, they both do. For reasons the other won’t expect to be. Gulf gulps when he feels that same large hand rest at his thigh, squeezing up until it’s near his hips where he sharply intakes a breath and unconsciously closes his eyes. Loving the way those hands softly touches him in circles, making excessive patterns all the way to his inner thigh but never touching anything more than that and fights the urge to ask for more. Wouldn’t want to come across as needier than he already looks.

The cab driver goes to a full stop and Gulf is easily pushed up to stand so that Mew can follow him, legs all jelly and sweat formulating on his nape even with only the mere knowledge of Mew standing so close to him. 

The walk wasn’t much help, in the dimmed lights and their quiet breathing, the shiver that courses through him didn’t come unnoticed. Mew smiles at Gulf from where he’s standing behind him, going where the younger heads to. His eyes swiftly drift from the other’s shoulders to the twitching fingers not knowing what to do until it reaches for a small key at the back pocket and he hears a small _we’re here._

His chest thumps in excitement mingling with the constant hums of unprecedented thoughts circling in his mind all the while Gulf reaches for a light switch and enters. Tips of his ears red and not daring enough to look back at the _guest_ waiting to be invited inside. 

The older shrugs, slightly enjoying the fact that Gulf is flustered more than ever, the confidence primarily exhibited by the younger underneath seeking color-arrayed lights and alcohol bottles were soon-after replaced with incoherent murmurs and twitching eyelids, nervous lip-biting and shaking fingers. 

The restraint Mew has in him is quickly thinning, they’re still awkwardly facing each other at the front door and he suddenly thinks of the possibility of him dropping the phone in his pockets if he were to jump Gulf like this. 

“Can I place my phone on your coffee table?” He searches for Gulf’s eyes but the idiot is still looking down at the floor, refusing to make any incredulous eye contact.

“Yeah sure,” he stutters out while clearing his throat. 

Mew smirks and looks at the other’s phone peeking through the other’s back pocket and easily swoops in to take it with his. He chuckles when he feels the other flinch and shy away when their eyes met. 

When Mew comes back, he takes the matter to his own hands. “Why are you acting so shy all of a sudden?”

Gulf looks at him briefly through his lashes before replying a timid, “Well…”

The younger bites his lip again and Mew loses his patience, reaching out to pull the bottom lip off in-between his teeth, “Stop biting your lip, it’s distracting me.”

“Sor—” Gulf was unable to apologize fully before he’s being dragged into their first kiss that night. Where Mew pulls at him smoothly with one arm securely wrapped around his slim waist and the other holding his chin. He finds his hands roaming on all parts of Mew’s top half. From the spread of his toned chest, his collarbones, his broad shoulders, it bemuses him how it twitches beneath the pad of his palms. 

Mew pulls him tighter, solid front pressed up against him with his arms practically squished between their conjoined bodies and he might just melt there and then. Because no amount of explanation would give justice as to how good of a kisser Mew really is. The direct message of wanting him and _him_ only is as clear as a bright sky on a Sunday morning when Mew sucks at his top lip, feeling it already swollen in the middle of profuse kissing and he kisses back, open-mouthed, hot, wet, and messy. Noises at the back of his throat forming when Mew’s hand transfers from his chin to the small of his back and pulls and pulls and _pulls_. Wanting him close, wanting the heat to flow through them as Mew forces his lips to open more so he could slip his tongue inside. The slight bitter taste of alcohol clings to his tongue when he licks into him and Gulf receives it with the strength he has, finding his arms circle Mew’s neck and tilting his head for better angle.

The older likes the way those plump lips move against him, demanding the same kind of satisfaction that he craves, throat bubbling up with unreleased moans and he gently pulls out of the kiss to breathe. To give him at least a short second to admire the art he’s made out of the other. Of swollen lips and just _red everywhere_. Gulf looks at him with half-lidded, glassy eyes and he’s finding it hard not to get lost in them. Dark hazel eyes talking to him as if their mouths weren’t meant for speaking, the younger breathes in slightly before opening his mouth to say something, “Please take care of me.”

There’s a hint in the way the other looks up at him and the way it looks down and tries to look somewhere else, from the way the light pink of his ears turned a deeper shade and how he clutched desperately at the cloth adorning Mew’s shoulders. _Take care of me_ , “Wait, when you say—”

“You’re a first,” Gulf states in a hushed tone, looking right back up at Mew’s expression of shock and smiles slightly. “Not kiss, dumbass. I’m not a virgin or anything, just that my hole is.”

Well fuck, how is he supposed to respond to that? “Is… this alright? You’re alright that it’s me?”

Gulf reaches for his lips once, long peck of assurance, “I wouldn’t have asked you to take care of me if I didn’t,”

“And if I fuck this up?”

“You won’t.” 

It’s inarguably shocking how Gulf fully entrusts his whole being—his _virgin ass_ —to him like it’s no big deal. Mew, a whole fucking stranger he stumbled upon during his working shift and now he’s about to have sex with. The responsibility put on the older’s shoulders is a bit overwhelming and when he tenses up, there’s already hands prepared to soothe those worries away. “I trust you, Mew.”

He releases a soft fuck, voice shaking and holds the other’s small face between his big hands to make the other look at him properly, “Where have you been—” _all my life?_

The question lingers in his head a little longer than it should. It was a random thought that he didn’t get to deliberate on until it’s escaping out of his mouth and they’re kissing again. Not knowing who initiated it first but the question is still ringing inside his head in bold, capitalized letters. 

The question he said still stayed when he softly puts the younger down on the bed with a hand supporting his neck and the other holding his waist. The soft gasps he hears when he kisses down from Gulf’s soft cheeks to his obviously sensitive neck sends blood rushing south and his dick twitches, a response so sudden, the tightness in his jeans suddenly bothering him. He puts himself completely between the younger’s thighs and presses down, dicks frantically rubbing against each other and they both make a sound loud enough that it echoes back at them. 

He feels small hands gripping on his shirt, wanting to pull it off so he does. Standing straight to pull his plain top off and looks at how the younger reacts. 

Gulf looks at him with sheer hunger, want, need. In the way he bites his lips and raises up a hand meant to show how desperately he wants to touch the pale skin.

Mew lets him, _why wouldn’t he?_ He tugs on the other’s wrist to let his palm explore the dips and curves of his exposed chest and midriff. Hand smoothly sliding down and feeling the sweat against his skin as he drinks up the appearance of the other in front of him. This, in front of him, is a man. A man that will presumably and hopefully fuck him until he can’t walk and leave his hips broken for a week. The severe lust swirling in his eyes easily spotted by the older and he once again holds the younger’s wrist and pins it down on the bed and he kisses. Kisses with fervor then suddenly slowing down to something more sensual that makes Gulf hypersensitive to the one roaming hand softly inching its way into his shirt, caressing his soft tummy and dragging his nails on wonderfully tanned skin, broken gasps getting swallowed up by the hot mouth sucking his lip.

Mew pulls him up and discards his shirt, _shit_. Gulf is just _so pretty_. No amount of synonyms will be able to establish how beautiful he is. With the light bouncing from the moon that seeps through the closed, glass windows, his skin glows golden. Tantalizing and overwhelming and Mew just stares, his cute tummy vibrating as his breathing stutters in weird stops and his chest fully adorned with the prettiest shade of red. Everything about Gulf is associated with red, how all the shades of red are easily spotted on his skin, his lips, his face, and even the redness of desire in his eyes as he looks up and waits for Mew to devour him whole.

Mew easily dives down, pushing Gulf deeper into the mattress that the bed squeaks at the sudden force and the younger releases a soft noise in surprise before he once again grips at the same strong shoulders and arms pinning him down. Mew’s lips find their way onto Gulf’s pretty chest and kisses, sucks, bruises them up with beautiful patches of purples and blues. He never pegged himself as an artist but Gulf was a canvas he’s willing to paint with all the divine pigments he can find in his tongue. Swirls it into lovely flowers and ravishing gardens across the entire length of Gulf’s torso.

Gulf whimpers underneath, loves the attention, wanting more of him. Likes how Mew tastes him in everything he has to extend. Wishing that the taste of him will last on Mew’s tongue even when they already drift off to sleep as a reminder of this night when Gulf hands himself over to Mew completely and submissively. 

Mew reaches his zipper, slowly, agonizingly dragging it down with his teeth and Gulf groans in annoyance, “Mew please.”

The older didn’t know Gulf can still reach a whole other level of pretty but _holy shit_ , Gulf begging was a whole other pretty Mew can’t describe in words, but his dick can. 

He easily pulls the tight denim pants off the younger and took off his boxers as well. Throwing them somewhere in the room and sucks on the bone of his hips. Soft moans emitted once he does his ministrations and Gulf’s hands grab his hair to urge him further. He licks his way down but almost completely ignores Gulf’s throbbing member and raises both of the other’s knees up and kisses the other’s inner thighs. “Fuck.”

The burnt-out dragged moan of the younger spurs him on, biting the flesh with his teeth and marking every inch of his thighs with hickeys. Lapping out the taste of Gulf with his tongue before stopping all the teasing all together and taking the other’s dick in his hand. The younger jolts, cold hand getting ahold of his hardened dick and pumping it slowly. His voice already tired and broken, tries to voice out the kind of delectation he feels when suddenly Mew sucks the tip. Pre-come forming and the older licks on it with vigor and bobs his head down. 

“Fucking shit!” Gulf exclaims with hands coming up to tug at Mew’s hair harder and the deep moan that escapes the older effectively affects his throbbing member and he can’t do anything but to moan even louder, Mew’s name stumbling out of his mouth, dripping with pleasure that plagues his whole skin and leaves his legs aching while Mew grips it harder in his arms, spreading it wider and he quickens his pace.

“ _Keep going_ ,” Gulf instructs in a breathy tone and Mew easily complies, moving quicker and pushes Gulf’s hips down when he threatens to thrust up. The strong coil in his stomach was bothering him, hot and liquid and swirling and he pulls the older up through his hair when he’s almost about to come, not wanting to just yet. Not wanting to be pleasured without pleasing the other as well so he brings the other’s lips closer and he kisses him. Arms interlocking on the other’s nape and pulls him down on the bed. _Not yet, I don’t want this to end yet_. 

Mew kisses back open-mouthed and in a slow pace that Gulf registers in his mind that only Mew does. The numerous times he’s kissed people and no one can compare as to how Mew kisses him, slowly, sensually, needily. The list goes on and on with how perfectly fitting the older’s lips are to his. The watery flow of the cleanly choreographed dancing of their lips against each other and the older’s tongue darts into his mouth. Tasting himself between those languid kisses and he’s utterly lost with how he’s being held. Arms circling his waist and pressing, probably bruising. Leaving himself pliant in the strong hold that imprints itself on his skin. 

“Do you—did you bring those stuffs with you?” Gulf shyly asks with lips ghosting his and the other chuckles, eye smiles in full view and the younger wants to kiss it.

“Yes, I have those _stuffs_ ,” Mew pecks him on the lips as he feels elated and breathless. Once Mew fully looks down at him, he forces his expression to come off as serious as he asks, “Are you sure you _really_ want this? Not that I don’t want this because I do, I really do. But I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

Gulf pulls him in for a chaste kiss, smile permanently attached to his lips and he looks up with eyes wide, making sure that Mew can see the truth in them as he speaks in a soft whisper, “Yes, Mew. I’m sure of this. I want you.”

That assurance echoes through Mew’s whole being and he nods softly, one last kiss before he pulls out of the younger’s space and pulls out the condom and lube still cleanly—and questionably tucked inside his pockets. 

He tears off the condom packet with his teeth and moves to discard his pants and boxers. When he looks back at Gulf, the other is unashamedly looking at his dick and blurts out in the cutest voice—in contrast to the things he’s about to say, “That’s big,”

Mew laughs heartily with a hand on his chest, he’s going to be the death of him. “Thanks baby, you really know how to praise a man.”

He comes up in front of the younger again and kisses him on the forehead, Gulf visibly shaken when he hears Mew’s choice of endearment, _baby_. Mew was about to roll the condom on when Gulf stops him, “Can I put it on you?”

“Um—well—” Mew hands the condom towards Gulf’s open palms as he stutters and quickly hisses when he feels Gulf immediately putting it on, hands landing on the younger’s hair as he looks down on him, eyes grateful for the contact. 

Once the condom’s already rolled well down his length, Gulf doesn’t let go but squeezes and decides to give him a handjob and Mew throws a lot of curses his way. He throws his head back with hands tightening on the younger’s hair. “Yeah, like that, keep going baby.”

His wrist moves like fucking magic, Mew practically thrusting on his hand while sitting up and pushes Gulf harshly down under him for the umpteenth time, both wrists pinned on top of the younger’s head with one hand and Mew takes some lube. “Open up for me, Gulf.”

The commanding tone he uses makes Gulf’s dick respond against his stomach and he scrambles to comply. Nervous to say the least but newfound excitement holds him captive for the most part and he feels the tip of Mew’s finger around his hole. _Cold_ , he softly groans and tugs his head back, wrists trying to break free but Mew holds them down harder. 

“Mew please,” Mew smirks, lip in suppressed cockiness as he observes the younger’s blissed out expression. Mouth wide open and eyes shut tight, sensation coursing through him in tidal waves and he makes the prettiest sounds. Those moans, fuck, sounds good when he hears it. Without warning he enters, slowly into the tightness, two fingers all at once eagerly stretching him open. “Fuck, _yes_.”

The sigh accompanied by jagged breathing follows suit when he’s now moving, fingers finding the bundle of nerves to drive him mad. “More fingers, please.”

Mew nods even though Gulf’s not looking at him and inserts a third finger, further opening him up and Gulf’s chest launches from the bed. Making an arch so beautiful Mew dives down to suck on his hardened nipples. 

Gulf can’t completely deny that it hurts a bit but the way Mew takes care of him makes him disregard the pain and indulge on the fact that the older is sticking to his word that he’ll take care of him. He adjusts and calms himself down, hole in need of more stretching because Mew is _huge_ without it sounding like an exaggeration, Mew will definitely without a single doubt _wreck_ him.

Constant thrusts follow in constant speed abusing him but he moans, shrieks and writhes in reply with Mew leaving more marks on his pretty skin. Mind blank, head spinning with the thought of the veins scattered around the older’s arms and his pale skin bathed with moonlight. Mew is handsome, too attractive for his own good and Gulf decides for himself that he’s not only a good fuck. 

Mew hits his prostate, surprising him and he twists within Mew’s restraining hand, not even scared that it’ll probably be red and bruised up tomorrow and releases a broken _fuck_ under his breath, eyelids watery and lips swollen. The amount of bliss covering his face urged Mew to find that spot again and to hit multiple times, getting hornier with the sounds the younger makes. Not too low but not too high, just overall perfect music to his ears.

When Mew thinks he’s ready and loose enough he stops and chuckles at the whine that small action receives, “I’m going to enter you now, you okay with that?”

Gulf eagerly nods back at him and looks up at his wrists, “Can you release me? I want to touch you,”

Mew smiles with all teeth and nods before planting a wet kiss on his lips and releasing his wrists. “Hold on to me as much as you want and tell me if I’m hurting you.”

All Gulf can do is nod and follow his lead. Heart pumping and almost drilling its way out of his ribcage but he reminds himself that he wants this, he wants Mew. The strings that bind him with Mew still questionable, reasons suspended in the air as to why he’s so succumbed to the idea of this complete and beautiful stranger to take him and take care of him, be his first and everything else, all because of a small conversation at a terribly-lit club with dancing bodies. 

He feels the tip of Mew’s head rubbing against him and all the thoughts die down into soft ringing beneath the anticipation as he waits for the older to push in. Mew holds him down by the hips meanwhile his thighs pushing so that Gulf can open his legs wider. The other goes down on his again, kissing him softly, lips on lips as he moves, inch by inch getting sucked into tight walls, hot, wet, extremely tight. “So _fucking_ tight,”

Gulf breathes out, high-pitched noises stuck at his throat with hands tangled at the hairs on his nape. When he fully adjusts to the length and asks for Mew to move.

Mew quickly picks up his pace because he’s noticed how greedy Gulf is when it comes to pleasure, when the tip finds his prostate Gulf quickly grinds back at him, scratching at his broad back and he lets him. Swallowing the moans and licking his neck as they both chase their orgasm. Gulf whispers tiny pleas at him and tightens his grip on his shoulders, forearms and anywhere he could reach and before they knew, they’re already coming. Gulf on their stomachs and Mew inside the condom as he slowly thrusts with rhythm disoriented as he finishes up.

It was silent for a few minutes, both trying to catch their breaths that they lost for minutes of intense fucking and Gulf gulps feeling his throat dry and sore from all the screaming. 

Gulf lets himself sink down on the pillows with Mew falling on top of him once he has pulled out. 

Once their breathing and the frantic beating of their hearts stabilized, Mew raised his head up from where he’s tucked on the younger’s bruised up neck and looks at the younger. 

Gulf looks up at him and it’s not subtle at how they’re both trying to figure out what happens next. Gulf almost speaks but Mew had other plans, slowly reaching for his lips with his own and kissing him for the last time that night, softly and so different from the kisses they’ve already shared. This feels light, grateful and careful. Like Gulf’s fragile glass that he doesn’t want breaking. A hand comes to cup his cheek as they kiss, thumb caressing his cheek in hopes of passing a statement he can’t quite say. Mew pulls away very slowly, self-debating if he’ll stay like that even though he can’t and kisses the younger’s temple with Gulf smiling up at the gesture.

What’s better than sex with Mew? Some might ask, and Gulf’s only answer would be them basking in the afterglow.

After Mew cleans him up—of course with protest coming from the younger because _you don’t have to, I can still stand up… oh_ —and Mew giggles. Airy and light, resonating from his chest as he looks at Gulf with something akin to adoration.

When Mew comes back after cleaning everything up and throwing the condom in the bin, he pulls Gulf close to him until the younger’s able to press his face on the older’s neck and he breathes in. Smell of sex still lingering in the air but the only scent that he registers is Mew’s. So musky and sweet, so _Mew_. 

With limbs tangled around each other like disregarded computer wires, Gulf’s given time to think. Why the trust he feels against Mew is so strong, he doesn’t know. Not having a single clue. The attraction they have for each other so tangible someone could throw a brick at it and won’t miss. So what is it about him? That lets Gulf get lost in the process and not be able to think straight. Just wanting to please and be pleased. There’s something in the way the older looked back in the club that made Gulf’s chest stutter. Immediately wanting to grab the other’s attention and hopefully be able to know each other better. 

At the first few moments of them talking, he never really thought of offering sex. There’s just something fascinating underlying the sharp eyes and clenched jaw. 

Maybe it’s the way Mew looked around the room seemingly lost but not wanting to be found either. A compass but not wanting to pick a single direction. Hinting disinterest with his eyes as he scans through the crowd and not paying attention to the eyes solely focused on him.

Maybe that. Gulf semi-finalizes in his head. But his arms felt warm and his embrace warmer, and how his eyes, even looking cold in the exterior, can easily soften when approached right. His lips welcoming and his shoulders practically looking like it would be nice to hold onto.

So when the other looks at him, he knew there was no turning back.

When Gulf finally eases himself down to slumber with a tiny fist curled in the middle of Mew’s chest, Mew unconsciously tightens his hold on him and he sighs. exhaustion-rimmed eyes and back aching a little from all the squeezing and scratches it received but he couldn’t ask for anything else.

He looks down at the body perched up against him with light snores bouncing out of him. It’s not even about how gorgeous Gulf is in the physical aspect. No it’s not that, because if it was then Mew wouldn’t’ve stayed. If it were only slight infatuation then he wouldn’t be here, cuddled up and near falling asleep. No, it’s more than that and he’s sure of it.

Sure in the way his hands are protectively holding Gulf’s tiny form and how he inhales the other’s scent post-sex like he’s in autopilot. Sure in the way he looks at the younger with the constant reminder of wanting to take care of the other. Sure of the way he’s silently wishing that tomorrow never comes. 

Because with years of running away and reaching nowhere, this is the first time he feels like he’s going somewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter account is @mewstiddies!! leave a comment here or message/mention me on that account ♡


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